


The Play's The Thing

by MissTantabis



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drama & Romance, Grindeldore Holiday Exchange 2017, M/M, Oneshot, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-23 05:45:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16152830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissTantabis/pseuds/MissTantabis
Summary: After a speech at the Globe, Gellert Grindelwald gets an unexpected visit by Albus Dumbledore. Many words are still left unsaid and hurt lays in the air.





	The Play's The Thing

**Author's Note:**

> This was my part of the Grindeldore Holiday Exchange 2017. I have sadly forgotten what the name of my giftee was.

The applause drowned him. Gellert Grindelwald was standing on the stage of the Globe Theatre. He was wearing a dark leather vest and a pair of skinny trousers. He watched the crowd. People seemed to go mental. Hands clapped, boots trampled. Faces distorted into cheers. Their roars and cries carried him higher and higher. They gave him marvellous wings to soar like a young god, and he bathed in them.

There were many ways to let people know about the Greater Good. While most people thought about his attacks, he also had more subtle and elegant ways of getting into their minds. This was one of them. Standing on the stage, Gellert slowly spread his arms, allowing the cheer and calls to build up. “Grin-del-wald! Grin-del-wald! Grin-del-wald!” The people sang his name and shook their fists. They were pumped. Pumped for war, pumped for blood, sweat and tears. Pumped for the show he would give them.

Being a performer was something, Gellert enjoyed incredibly. He knew about the power of his voice, the thrill the melodic tones sent down your spine. He knew that whenever he spoke, people stopped to listen. He had known it since he was a young student. He could wrap himself around people’s brains and give them new and glorious ideas. Just by talking. His words were like honeyed knives, cutting into your head.

And aside from that, Gellert loved being on the stage. To control people with just a few words, to shape worlds with words. Moreover since he was actually very talented when it came to music, using songs to transport his message were even better. He got a thrill out of giving people a good show, something they would talk about for days on end.

He truly was in people’s mind, heart and speech.

As their calls and cheers seemed to reach a new level, Gellert laid a finger on his lips and with a chuckle called: “Hush! Hush now, everybody.” His mismatched eyes positively sparkled. He slowly dropped his arms and addressed the crowd: “Thank you all for coming. Thank you all for coming despite the fact that the Ministry supervises every single step you do.”

The crowd slowly fell silent. They hang on his lips as Gellert continued to speak: “The Ministry says it does all this supervision to keep you safe. To make sure you remain free from detection by Muggles. That is what all these regulations are there for. But how useful are they? What use does it have, if you are having all the magic in the world when you can no longer really use it? Why are we forced to deny who we are? What does all the levitating feathers, potions to dye our hair and owls mean if we lose something so, so deep?”

Gellert sighed and slowly walked along the stage. “I ask all of you: Where is the wonder that magic used to be? Where is the awe? Where is the astonishment? Where is the moment when you stand in silence with a smile on your face because what you did actually worked? Since when has magic become so incredibly dull and common instead of something to marvel at? Why did we give all this up for such a mundane life? For such a…” He was gesturing and pointing at them all, sending sparks of magic into the sky.

Gellert’s breath hitched for his eyes had suddenly found somebody in the crowd. The stranger had tried his best to blend in with the crowd, but he could not fool Gellert. This auburn hair and the clear blue eyes would be recognisable for him everywhere. He was wearing a long, dark blue cloak, and stood there with his arms crossed. Their eyes met. The crowd seemed to dissolve before Gellert’s eyes.

“… _lonely_ life.” His voice had dropped for a few seconds. For a short moment, he was lost in thoughts. Catching himself before anybody noticed his hesitation, Gellert almost forcefully shook his head and continued his speech: “Why? Because the Wizarding community believes that we are not worthy of having some wonder in our lives as this would attract the Muggles to us. They rob us of the beauty of our magic. They are thieves of our powers and peace. For they cannot and will not see that Muggles have the same feelings. They have the same flesh, share the same blood, and just like us, they have the same dreams. So why can we not share these dreams with them?”

The audience applauded again. Gellert laughed and waved. He blew them a kiss. “Danke sehr, danke sehr.” Gellert turned around and stepped through the curtain, going backstage. While he had appeared gentle and welcoming on stage, he now muttered curses under his breath. “Verdammte Scheiße.” Gellert hissed through his teeth. This speech had not been his best. Albus Dumbledore had thrown him off guard and thus his last part of the speech had not felt as good as it should have been. He had wrapped things up way too quickly. Though he doubted that any of these wizards had noticed it. They were too clouded by his charisma and appearance anyway.

Still, this should not have happened. Gellert slowly ran a hand over his blond locks. The dark wizard did not have to worry about Aurors raiding the Globe Theatre. Hardly anybody knew that he looked like a twenty-five year old man, when in reality he was forty-five. His younger aspect was the perfect hide. He and the owner of the Globe had an agreement: For a small of fee of five till ten pounds, he got to use the stage for ten minutes. The audience never told, and Albus probably won’t tell either.

But he had confused him nonetheless. How had Albus gotten here? What did he want? And why did he still have such a big influence over him? Gellert had thought he had burned this wound out ages ago! So why did his old lover’s sight make him shake so much?

Walking down to the part of the Globe where they kept the costumes, Gellert found Albus standing by a window. Of course he had to come. He always had to stick his nose into things that were not his concern. Not that Gellert was any better. He was even worse. Always trying to find out what the Professor was up to.  _Whelp, now you know!_

Gellert quickly crossed the room to corner Albus. “Fausts Teufelspakt!”, he called, “Was machst du hier?” He gazed at his friend from head to toe. Albus had aged. Of course he had. He did not have to hide himself behind a false name or a false face. His auburn hair had darkened into a deeper shade of brown by now. Knowledge had begun to draw thin lines in his face.

Gellert halted before Albus and continued to inquire: “Bist du vollkommen verrückt geworden? Woher hast du gewusst, dass ich hier bin? Hat das Ministerium dich geschickt?” His hands trembled and he was tempted to shake him. Part of him should not be surprised that he was here. Gellert knew they had a way of finding each other. They were connected through a pair of identical tattoos. The emblem of the Deathly Hallows, drawn upon their wrists. So close and yet so far away. They were never alone.

The tattoos were enchanted. They made sure they always knew where the other one was. Moreover, it allowed them to mentally communicate with each other once one of them touched their respective tattoo. Gellert always tried to contact Albus in this way, however he hardly ever replied to his calls. Still, it did not stop him from making them.

Albus replied sharply: “I could ask you the same question. Why are you here in Britain?! Gellert, I will not tolerate you carrying this fight over to us. We do not want the pain and suffering from the main land here.” For a short moment, it seemed as if he was about to shout, however he composed himself. “Gellert, you may say that this is for the Greater Good, but all that it brings is destruction. I implore you: Stop this madness. Leave Britain out of this. The Ministry believes it is safe because you are afraid of me. So the question is: Are you afraid of me?”

The blue eyes locked with his. Gellert could barely hide his amusement. It glimmered and sparkled in his eyes. The corner of his lips pulled itself up into the hint of a smile. It was a gentle tease, a fleeting gesture of amusement and mockery.“You know that I have never feared you, Albus.”

It was true. He was aware of the powers the Professor had. And he respected them. In his pursuit for the change of the world, Gellert had watched Albus’ humble raise to greatness in his own fashion. As a teacher. And while many people would not have seen this as a path of greatness, Gellert saw the potential slumber in Albus, just waiting to burst out. He was an inventor and pioneer in magic. He got people excited over the wonders. He helped children realise how wonderful their gift was. That was his legacy. That was how he caught the interest of the government and their representatives. They knew he was the greatest wizard of his time. His only equal was Gellert himself.

“And why should I let my cause rest at your borders?”, continued Gellert, “I did not attack you. I just talked. Hope you enjoyed the show.” The smile widened into a bright flash of teeth, followed by a quiet chuckle as he shook his head.

Albus leaned against the wall. He turned his face away. His eyes flickered and now it was he, whose breathing hitched in his throat. What had he seen? A rockstar like everyone else? Or his lover in an entirely new light? Albus rubbed with his hand over his face. “Go to hell”, he panted.

“I tried. But it seems that hell is empty and all the devils are here.”

“You know _nothing_ , do you?!” Albus suddenly pushed himself past him. He turned back and his voice was full of fury and worry. “Minister Spencer-Moon is not the fool Hector Fawley was! He has allowed his Director of Magical Law Enforcement, Richard Toppclife, more privileges then this man had under Fawley. If you know anything about Toppclife, then you will realise in what _danger_ you are!” Gellert saw the glimmer of tears in his eyes and heard the tremble in his voice.

The Professor stammered: “As much as I hate you for what you are doing, I cannot help but still care about you. Toppclife is not somebody to be messed with. I do not want you to die by this man’s hand. You are tempting fate, Gellert.”

Gellert huffed. “Is that not what I have always been doing?”, he inquired back, “I am not scared of Toppclife nor Spencer-Moon. I do know that they are both powerful individuals. Still, this does not stop me from trying out a few things.”

Indeed, Gellert had perfected the phenomenon of stealing and creating identities. He was using his original aspect under another name. And he had purposed to Toppclife to be an informant. It was a risky business, but it was helping him. He could lead them astray. He could make things up. As long as he did things in a reasonable fashion, there was not much to worry about.

Albus threw his arms in the air. “You have always been an impossible moron!”

Gellert caught his hands. He cupped the long fingers and breathed a soft kiss upon them. “Albus”, he cooed, “I know what I am doing.” He walked over to one of the costumes, a dark red and black uniform of finest leather. Brushing his fingers over it, he whispered: “Before you nobody has ever encouraged me to be Grindelwald.” He smiled and it was genuine. Gellert let go of the costume and walked towards Albus. “You have liberated me from a colourless life. Without you, I would not be who I am.”

Albus lowered his head. “That is why I failed you. I’ve addicted you to Grindelwald.”

Gellert huffed sadly. He replied: “You still have not answered my question. What brings you here?”

“I have heard you were in London. I wanted to see if the rumours were true. You are in London. And what you are doing is dangerous.” Albus lowered his head. Gellert could see a shadow fleeting over his face. “But I know I cannot stop you. You won’t listen to me. And whenever you are here, it pains me.”

Albus looked up again. His eyes were wide, and his underlip seemed to tremble. His words seemed to stumble over themselves. “Gellert, whenever you are near, you cause a wound in my heart to crack open and bleed all over again. You are killing me with this. Not just with what you do, but with your mere presence alone. Can’t you stop it? For my sake? It seems so often like you do not even care.”

“I do care, Albus.” Gellert Grindelwald walked over to the red haired Professor and rose a hand. Brushing over the other one’s cheek, he whispered: “You are my muse. I care just as much as you do. Otherwise I would not be here.”

“But you still hurt me.”

“That’s part of love, Albus. To hurt. Don’t you know that?”

The other man seemed to shiver and shudder. He leaned into his touch. On his face past and presence were fighting for supremacy. “Gellert, stop it.” His voice sounded hoarse. Gellert smiled. He let his hand wander down towards Albus’ neck and rest there. His lips met Albus’.

The kiss felt as if somebody had wrapped wires around their necks. Gellert felt salty tears stream down his former friend’s face. “Hush”, Gellert whispered, barely breaking the kiss, “There is no need to cry.” His lips claimed Albus’ again. The kiss was soft and slow, and it tasted of all the summer days passed, of excited whispers over old parchments, of skin on skin, of the taste of shared chocolate.

At that moment Albus suddenly showed Gellert away as harsh as he could. “S-stop it!”, he called. He tried to make his voice sound firm, but the blonde wizard could hear his tremble underneath it. He laughed. “Stop what?”, he asked, mockingly. The elder wand slipped into his fingers as he sauntered towards Albus, “Stop the attacks? Stop the cause of the Greater Good? Stop... _the kiss_ ?”

“I will not fall for your snares again, Grindelwald!” A set of sparks flew of the tip of Albus’ wand and landed on the ground, prickling in the fabric. “If it was not for me, Toppclife would be having your head! How can you be this ungrateful? You are selfish! Do you know that? You are a selfish, ignorant bastard!”

Gellert called: “Beruhig dich, Mandelkern! Toppclife won’t ever know –”

“Do. Not. Call. Me. This!”

Gellert staggered backwards as if a bee had stung him. Mandelkern had been his nickname for his lover since they had realised they were in love with each other. It was a little inside joke for on one side Mandelkern was the German word for the Amygdala, the part of the brain that produced emotions, and on the other side it referred to the core of one of their favourite sweets. Mozartkugeln were something Gellert had introduced to Albus, and he had loved them.

Albus continued: “I am sick of it! How you are playing with my emotions and with your own life. Can’t you see I want to make sure that you are alright? Can’t you see I am trying to protect you? And here you are, pretending that  _nothing_ has happened at all! Why are you treating everybody that loves you like this? Why do you make life for me, for us so painful?”

“Nobody loves the damned, Albus.”

Now it was Albus Dumbledore’s turn to stagger backwards. “Nobody can say I did not try”, he whispered, “But it seems I lost you.”

Gellert felt his brows furrow. He spat out the words: “You cannot lose what you never had.”

The two wizards stared at each other. Albus seemed to be shaken through the core. He took a deep and shivering breath. “You cannot mean that”, he breathed, “You proclaim to love me and then you are saying something like this. Why are you playing such a cruel game? Why can’t you just make a final stand? Why can’t you just say that you hate me? It just…” He turned his face away and choked down a sob, which seemed to threaten to come up. “I do not understand you any longer.”

Strangers and friends. They were so close and yet so far away. It was breaking both of them apart. “Wir haben uns ein Versprechen gegeben.” Gellert’s voice was hoarse. The shining wire of circumstances cut off his lungs. “Oder hast du das schon vergessen? Niemals alleine. Wir wollten diesen Kampf gemeinsam bestehen. Als die Anführer einer glorreichen Revolution. Als Freunde. Als Liebhaber.”

Gellert pulled up his left sleeve. He turned his hand around to reveal his wrist. There with lines like ink was a tattoo in the shape of a triangle with a circle and a vertical line in it. Gellert carefully ran a hand over the tattoo. It buzzed with magic and he felt a bittersweet longing run through him, which partly was his own and partly was not. “The tattoos”, he rasped, “You know what they stand for.”

Albus sighed and scratched over his own left arm. When he undid all the knots and ropes of his sleeve, he revealed the exact same tattoo. A promise, marked upon skin. A promise, both of them had broken in their own ways. Gellert could see the dark shadows under Albus’ eyes. His friend had been hit worse then he did.

Gellert sighed and softly took a hold of Albus’ wrist. He kissed down the other man’s hand. Over the fingers and knuckles. The delicate tendons, the palm of his hand and finally the wrist. There he rested upon the tattoo. “You know that I will always love you, Mandelkern”, whispered Gellert, “But I made my choice just like you made yours. I can no longer be the man you want me to be.”

“You still could change...” Albus’ voice sounded so helplessly thin.

“I can’t.” Gellert let go of Albus’ hand. “As much as I love you, the passion for the Greater Good is stronger, Albus. Besides who would believe that I had changed?” He rose a hand and brushed over the redhead’s cheek. “Nobody except you. As good as your intentions are, I fear they won’t carry any fruits.”

Albus carefully pushed the hand away. “You know that I will have to come for you eventually”, he murmured, “I cannot stay out of this situation forever. Even now the Ministry breaths in my neck. The pressure is high as ever. You know what they will expect me to do. Just like you play your part, I will have to play mine.”

“I know, Mandelkern.” Gellert leaned his forehead against Albus. “I am not afraid.”

“If one of us has to kill the other one, promise that you will make it quick, Gellert.”

“I promise. Will you do the same in return?”

“Yes.”

Gellert leaned closer. Their breaths intermingled with each other. The kiss was deep and slow. Soft like the whisper of the wind. Gellert barely broke it as he whispered against his lover’s lips: “Dann habe ich nichts zu befürchten.”

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments help me writing.


End file.
